Grim
by Sachi Kameko
Summary: Dante is a mildly serious, more so eccentric, woman who is charged with training the 104th Trainees Squad in combat. During her training sessions, she grows particularly attached to cadet Marco Bott. (Rated T for some violence, language, and some adult themes in later chapters; non-explicit). [Marco x OC x Levi]
1. Chapter 1

Morning light flooded into the room, peeking through the sheer curtains that served as a thin, flimsy layer of protection against the sun. The light flitted across soft eyelids, prompting long eyelashes to flutter open.

It was a beautiful morning; birds chirping outside while a soft breeze swayed the curtains through a window that had apparently been left open from the night before. By most standards, anyone would be pleased to wake up in such a way, however, the owner of previously mentioned long eyelashes instead prompted to close her eyes once more, and hide herself under the safety of her warm blanket.

Soon, she relaxed, happy to be surrounded by the warmth and darkness her blanket provided. Just as she was ready to slip back into a peaceful slumber, however, she was jolted awake by a crash through her door.

Her eyes shot open, a gasp being pulled from her lips as she sat up in bed, hair disheveled and eyes wide in panic. As her brain overworked itself, a defensive measure to sooner wake from her sleep induced haze, her wild eyes turned into a deep glare at the offender. Her face was set into a deep scowl, as she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes.

"Out of bed, Dante!" Instructor Keith Shadis commanded, voice loud and booming as he stood at the entrance of her door. "You're late! You were supposed to meet the cadets hours ago! Days ago! Get your lazy ass out of bed, now!"

"I get it, I get it!" The woman referred to as Dante whined, lazily slugging out of the comfort of her bed and reluctantly throwing open her closet. "Just get out so I can get changed, pervert." She muttered offhandedly, earning a scowl from the man before he turned on his heel and walked away.

"You could've at least shut the door!" Was the last thing the Instructor heard, followed by the slam of a door, as he exited the hall.

Back within the room, the once peaceful space was filled with resentful grumbles and complaints about a day that hadn't even started. The sun had barely creeped up from beyond the mountaintops just moments before her disturbing wake up call, yet she was already being bothered with her duties.

In all fairness, the task she was assigned (that task being the charge of the new cadets combat training) was one she was supposed to have started days prior, but kept putting it off with the excuse of she "just didn't feel like it." That decision was starting to bite her in the butt as now she has no choice. She had put off the assignment to the point when any later and she'd be sending the poor suckers to their deathbeds without any proper preparation.

She'd rather not have that hanging over her.

Huffing out her frustrations, she stared at the contents of her closet. She was met only with the sight of three separate uniforms, each bearing different emblems. Without missing a beat, she grabbed one of them and easily slipped it on, back now bearing the crest of the trainee squadron.

"What a pain in the ass…" Letting out a sigh, Dante stepped out from the security of her room. Long legs strode down seemingly endless hallways, face set in a disinterested expression, until she reached a quaint, little door. Upon entering, after the door was shut quietly, her body naturally fell into a salute; left arm folded behind her back while her right fist curved upward, pressed against her heart.

"Dante," the voice belonged to Instructor Shadis. "Your assignment is to train the 104th cadet squad in combat-"

"I know-"

Instructor Shadis looked up from the papers in his hands at the interruption. "Could've fooled me. You were given this assignment weeks ago, and you haven't even started."

Dante puffed her cheeks, looking away to a corner of the room. Her salute fell as her arms instead opted to fold in front of her chest. Despite her childish antics, she remained silent otherwise.

"Here's the list of your new trainees," he sighed, closing his eyes and rubbing the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Now get the hell out of my office."

"Sir!" She smiled, happy to be done with the formalities.

Quickly, she snatched the papers from his desk and made a mad dash out of the room. Each page listed each of the 104th cadets' personal information. Her nose was buried in the papers, carefully reading about each of the cadets, an amused smile spreading across the features of her face. She hoped they were truly as interesting as the reports made them out to be.

…

The heavy, confident steps of Erwin Smith sounded down the hall, the heel of his boots clicking against the wood of the floorboards while the toe caused them to creak. His features were set in their usual stony expression, gaze shifting ever so only when someone passed him by; only once. It was a woman; waist slim, slightly wider hips with a top to match. The woman's eyes met his for only a moment, but she looked away, seemingly disinterested. As they passed each other however, their fingers brushed and within that moment he felt the crisp touch of paper slip into his palm. It all happened in the short span of a moment, so fast not even the sharpest soldier would've noticed.

He clenched his fists, eyes staring ahead of him as the woman's footsteps soon faded away. Continuing down the hall, he soon found himself in front of a small meeting room. Wasting no time, he stepped inside and closed the door behind him. Before him were three others, each commanders, with the exception of one: Dot Pixis, Commander of the Garrison, Nile Dok, Commander of the Military Police, and finally, Keith Shadis, former Commander of the Survey Corps, current Instructor of the 104th Trainees Squad.

They did a quick salute to each other; simple formalities, before taking a seat at a small, round table. There were papers scattered across the surface and upon looking down, Erwin saw the many faces of each 104th trainee cadet within the wall.

"Let's cut to the chase." Started Shadis, handing a few papers to each of the commanders. "These are the cadets that seem to be most applicable for your divisions."

"I'm assuming each of these cadets are among the top 10 in their region?" Nile Dok said, voice low and disinterested.

Erwin said nothing, but found himself empathizing with his fellow commander. This meeting was a simple formality, a way to know ahead of time who may or may not be soon joining their division. It didn't matter to him, if they wanted to join the Survey Corps then they would, if they didn't then so be it.

"Yes," Shadis stated, pausing for a moment before continuing, "those are the top 10 cadets in both the North and South regions of the wall. However, there's an interesting development within the South cadets."

All of the commanders lifted their gaze from the papers before them to regard the Instructor with interest.

"Normally, any cadet would scramble at the opportunity to be within the Military Police, but that's not the case within the cadets from the South."

"Why's that?" Pixis, who had been quiet until then, finally spoke.

Shadis paused once again, taking the time to pull one of the Cadet files from Dok's hand before sliding it in front of Erwin.

"Eren Jaeger," he said after he pulled his hand back; "currently ranked number 7, but with his stubborn nature, I suspect he'll rise in the ranks."

"What about him?" Dok grunted.

"He's from Shiganshina, and he's set on joining the Recon Corps. As I said before, he's stubborn and he's got a deep hatred for the titans."

Don't we all. Erwin kept that thought to himself as he picked up the file. The others regarded him in silence as he read over the file before ultimately setting it back on the smooth surface of the table.

"He's the type of soldier that gets himself killed off quickly." Erwin spoke finally, meeting the deep set eyes of Instructor Shadis.

"That's not all." Shadis soon removed one file from Dok's hands and one from Pixis, sliding them before Erwin. "Mikasa Ackerman, currently ranked number 1 and I don't foresee that changing. She's a born fighter, displaying a kind of aptitude I've never seen before. Lastly, Armin Arlert, not ranked within the top 10, but might as well be a genius. Both are from Shiganshina with Eren Jaeger. It's likely that if Jaeger joins the Scouts, so will they. Together….they may make a lethal combination."

"They may?" Pixis hummed with interest, taking a swig of his wine.

"I haven't conducted any drills with them together. I don't even think their potential can be realized unless they're in a life or death situation."

The room got quiet once more, curious eyes finding their way back to Erwin Smith, trying to catch a glimpse at his thoughts but ultimately failing. This certainly was an interesting development, but Erwin had seen his fair share of reckless cadets who ended up as nothing more than snacks for the titans.

After a brief pause, the meeting continued, ending soon after with each commander having something different on their minds.


	2. Chapter 2

"Hey….Hey! Get up already!"

With a groan, Marco rubbed his hands across his face, droopy eyes peering up at the person that disturbed his sleep; his friend, Jean Kirstein. His eyes narrowed slightly, vision still trying to focus as his sleepy mind slowly began to make sense of things. His name is Marco Bott, he's a part of the current 104th Trainees Squad, and every morning he liked to think of things that make him happy: sunshine, leisurely walks, and an unusual penchant for sweets.

"Stop daydreaming and get up! Instructor Shadis will put us on his shit list if we're late!" Jean threw a shoe at him, earning a grunt of pain as it landed perfectly on his abdomen.

With a yawn, he swung his long legs over the corner of his bed, feeling his aching muscles creek and pop in protest; the results of a less than comfortable bed. Marco lazily rubbed his hands against his face, chasing away the last hints of his drowsiness before tossing the shoe right back at Jean, who yelped when it thumped painfully against his back.

"What was that for?" Jean griped, a dull _'You started it'_ being the only response he got. "Ey, what's wrong with you, this morning?" Jean tsked, watching as the taller male slowly rose from bed and passed him by, practically dragging his feet toward the washroom.

Marco paused at the entryway, Jean's words somewhat catching him off guard. Nothing was wrong. The day had just started, therefore no significant event had occurred in order for something to be wrong. So why would his friend think something was wrong?

"What are you talking about? Everything's fine!" The tall boy smiled, rather unconvincingly, before continuing on his way to the washroom.

"Sure….Whatever you say, man…" Jean blinked, lost in a minute daze of confusion as his tall, lanky friend left his sight.

…

Just the night before, after the cadets had resigned themselves to bed for the night, Dante, not-so stealthily, made her way to the training grounds and began preparations for her combat training. It was nothing fancy, just tossing aside previously used equipment and putting away the ODM gear. The cadets certainly wouldn't be needing those to train for awhile.

Even if it wasn't much, however, her tendency to lose focus and distract herself with wondering thoughts kept her up well into the night; very early morning, rather. That being said, it wasn't much of a surprise that she woke up late.

She danced around her room in a dizzy mess, clothes and shoes, as well as paperwork and various other documents, were scattered haphazardly around her room as she scrambled to make up lost time. Her breath escaped quickly and her hair was a disheveled mess under the stress of having jolted out of bed at the realization of how late she was. She couldn't afford to sit through another endless lecture about her responsibilities and whatnot.

"Fuck!" Dante doubled over, one hand against her desk to hold her steady while her other hand was pressed firmly against her mouth, stifling any other swears that tried to bubble out.

In her rush, she stubbed her toe against the foot of her desk. It hurt. She could practically feel the pain pulsing from her foot and through her leg, but the pain gave her clarity and she suddenly found her mind clearing.

Breathing through the pain, Dante limped to her bed and flopped down on it, giving herself enough time to breath as she slipped on her boots; taking her time, unlike with everything else this morning. Normally, she wasn't one to allow herself to rush or be in a hurry, but this morning, she was given a final warning not to be late or skip out on training the South region's 104th Trainees Squad.

"Ugh…" A soft groan left her lips as she rubbed her hands against her face. The day hadn't even really began, but she could already feel that it was going to be a long day.

…

Marco splashed water on his face, scrubbing gently before trailing his hands back to run through his hair. He had just finished changing into his uniform and now stood in front of the mirror in the men's washroom, staring down his reflection. Oblong facial structure, slightly slanted eyes, straight nose, and freckled cheeks.

He stared himself down before tugging at the corners of his lips, contorting his facial expression into a smile. He preferred to think about the nicer things in life, so even if he had no particular reason to, he told himself that he would smile at least once a day. By doing so, sometimes he'd smile without meaning to or even when the situation didn't warrant it.

His smile nearly faltered at the thought, inwardly cringing at the memory of his orientation into the 104th Trainees Squad and his encounter with Instructor Shadis.

Marco chuckled, smile returning after he successfully chased the thought away. He figured he should teach himself to laugh at things that occurred in the past. His smile regimen made it easier to do so. In fact, he'd say he was beginning to become quite good at it. Almost too good…

After a while, Marco couldn't really tell if he was smiling because he wanted to, or if it was more so an act of ritual; a routine thing to do. Sure, he could smile when he was genuinely happy and laugh when he truly thought something was funny, however, sometimes it felt like smiling was slowly becoming an act of defense rather than a method of expression.

"I'm thinking too much…" Marco splashed more water on his face before drying off, throwing his reflection one last reassuring smile before exiting the washroom and joining the crowd of cadets as they groggily filed into the mess hall for breakfast, sleep still weighing heavily on their minds.

…

Dante strode, more like marched, down the long hallway; constant and unwavering as she neared her destination. Despite her hurried pace, her steps were light, heels clicking against the polished wood until ultimately coming to a halt in front of a wide door. Lifting her hand to rest against it, she took pause, going through a mental checklist. It was quiet, all except for the animate chatter sounding from the other side of the door. With the way she just stood there, anyone that may suddenly pass by may think that she was trying to will the door to open on it's own. She knew it wouldn't, of course, but rather she was making sure everything was prepared and in order for what she had up their sleeve.

She grinned; smooth lips tugging up into a wickedly amused smile before swiftly pushing the door. It burst open with a startling sound that silenced all those that had previously been enjoying a morning meal. They started at the intruder, mouths agape at the sight of the once closed door now slammed open and awkwardly creaking on its hinges before ultimately halting completely. It was quiet, nothing but eyes shifting around in confusion, most of them aimed directly at Dante.

"Who the hell are you?" shouted a young man that had managed to snap out of his stupor.

"Me?" Voice soft, laced with a certain hint of amusement that quipped the inhabitants and put them on guard. They eyed the unknown up and down, sizing up their enemy. Some were cautious, others were cocky. After all, the intruder, Dante, didn't look threatening: female, average weight, average height, slick hair touching just below her ears, and bright hazel eyes that could capture any man's attention. "I'm the person that will be in charge of your combat training from now until I've decided that you've been properly broken in!" Dante's grin was wide as she looked upon the mess hall filled with the confused faces that belonged to, none other than, the 104th Trainees Squad. "You may call me Dante."

"Dante...?" Questioned a cadet, going stiff as soon as the eyes of his new superior landed on him.

"Yes…. Among fresh meat, such as yourselves, I'm notorious for sending my enemies to the depths of Hell." Her voice shouted out, echoing in the still mess hall. "From this moment on, you are all my enemies! If I like you, I'll make sure you enjoy the trip. If I don't, well..." She squinted her eyes, hip jutting out to rest her palm against it. As she gazed across the faces of her new victims, some shivered while a wicked gleam passed over her features. "Well, you'll be begging for the real thing."

"What kind of joke is this? Who do you think you are?" It was Jean that yelled out, obviously displeased with the sudden turn of events.

The other cadets looked between him and the woman known as Dante curiously, waiting with bated breath to see how the situation would unfold.

"Joke..?" Her face, which had previously remained amused and light from the moment she stormed the room, turned passive, a eerie seriousness clouding her features. Slowly, she turned on her heel and proceeded to descend the steps, breaking eye contact in the process. Some of the steps creaked under her until she stood on the wide plane of the mess hall. She paused, lips pursed in thought as she folded her hands neatly behind her back. When she resumed, she once again turned on her heel, this time facing Jean, and walked straight toward him. Her steps were constant and unwavering, slow and light, and ceased only when she stood in front of the bold cadet. She was barely half a head shorter and had to tilt her head ever so to look him in the eye, but she stood so close their noses nearly touched.

The proximity alone was enough to make Jean mildly uncomfortable, but her strong gaze caused him to unconsciously hold his breath and swallow a gulp of saliva that had gathered in his mouth. He was frozen in place, staring down at her as the rest of the cadets watched, waiting impatiently for something, anything, to happen. A cool drop of sweat fell from Jean's temple and suddenly a smile spread wide across the mysterious woman's face, patting him on the back rather roughly while laughter spilled from her lips. Suddenly the air in the room wasn't so stiff and everyone released a breath they didn't realize they had been holding. Jean, however, flinched at the barrage of slaps she landed against his back as she laughed in amusement about something he didn't know.

"I think I might start to like you!" She proclaimed, wiping a tear from her eye and flicking it away, her laughter finally beginning to die down. "Don't disappoint me." She grinned a grin that told those in the room that a world of hurt awaited them.

…

Marco was amazed, to say the least. This whole situation baffled him. No more than a half hour prior to her arrival, they had all groggily dragged themselves from their stiff, uncomfortable beds and dressed in preparation for training. Just moments before she crashed through the door of the mess hall, they had finally managed to waken themselves and chat animatedly over their not-so appetizing, yet filling, breakfast. Now, they were staring in awe as she shamelessly stood uncomfortably close to Jean Kirstein. It all seemed like something right out of a fictional story, really. Something none of them could believe was actually happening. Surely, this was a dream?

Marco's eyes were wide as he looked on, breath held in his throat at the scene before him: Jean's face flushed bright red, this mysterious woman practically nose to nose with said cadet, and everyone else just as frozen as he, unsure of what to do. Just looking at their close proximity was enough to make his face flush with a light dusting of pink.

She, this woman named Dante, had a commanding personality and he couldn't help but follow her every move. Her body was modestly curved, waist just so noticeably curved inward while her hips were subtly belled outward. Her short hair curled cutely just below her ears, her vast hazel eyes were captivating, and it was these little things Marco couldn't help but notice most.

The corner of Dante's lips slightly tugged upward into the faintest of smirks and all too soon laughter began to spill from her lips. Marco felt his shoulders relax ,and released a breath he didn't realize he had been holding, as she moved away from his friend. Everything suddenly didn't feel as tense; it felt like it was easier to breathe in the light atmosphere.

"I think I might start to like you!" Dante proclaimed, a grin stretched across her face as she roughly pat her hand against Jean's shoulder. "Don't disappoint me."

Marco slightly flinched at the sight. It hurt just to watch; Jean's face cringing slightly from the impact.

"Cadets!" Dante shouted, hands on her hips as her eyes slowly scanned out over the young faces. "I want to see you all in the training grounds in the next 10 minutes! Anyone that's late will be kicked from the trainee squad, no questions asked!" With that, Dante marched back up the stairs and left the mess hall as abruptly as she came.

Jaw's dropped, the cadet's watched the brazen woman's back as she left, only the sound of her footsteps being an indication that what just occurred had not been a dream; even that, however, eventually faded away.

It was quiet, but soon realization hit. All at once, the cadets made a mad scramble to finish their meal and head to the training grounds.

…

"Line up, cadets!" She shouted, voice ringing across the training grounds like an alerting bell.

Scrambling, all the cadets lined up, bodies almost naturally falling into place; stiff, straight, and facing forward. The woman walked from end of the line to the other and back again, looking each person up and down with a critical eye. Some of the cadets allowed their eyes to follow her while others cautiously stared ahead of them, but none knew what to make of her. She seemed eccentric, free flowing, but also serious and unyielding.

At first, none could tell if she was someone to be taken lightly or if she was someone to be feared. She couldn't have been that much older than them, so what could she do, or rather what could she teach them, that could further them?

They were proven wrong, however, when a handful of cadets made it to the training grounds barely a minute late. Without hesitation, Dante had dismissed them, slender finger pointing toward a waiting carriage. They thought she had been kidding, but with a hard look in her eye, she shooed them away.

"Role call!" Immediately, she barked out her orders, staring down at the first cadet in the line with a hardened gaze. "State your name, cadet."

The cadet gulped audibly; sweat trickling down his brow as his adam's apple bobbed ever so slightly. This was like orientation all over again, but rather than Instructor Shadis, it was a woman with a rather average (some would say boyish) frame. At first glance, she wasn't nearly as intimidating, but some of the more skilled cadets knew to be weary.

In her eyes, they could see a kind of experience only those that had seen the more bitter side of life would have. However, her occasional, eccentric outbursts made her all the more mysterious. Was she someone to be loved or feared? Or was she someone that tethered dangerously in between?

One by one, each of the cadets called out their names in salute. She hardly gave them a second glance, while she completely skipped over others. Some, she would stare at, circle around, and regard deeply as though she were trying to work out any preconceptions she may already have off them. It was unsettling and did well to cause more than just a few cadets discomfort.

About halfway down the line, however, she gave a disinterested yawn and waved her hand to dismiss them.

"You're dismissed, cadets!" She waved them off. "Pair up and start basic combat drills, I want to see what you're made of! Switch partners every five minutes!"

Short, sweet, and to the point. With that, she turned on her heel and walked off to the side, sitting herself somewhere that she could keep a close eye on the cadets while simultaneously slack off.

To say that it had been a bewildering morning for all of them would be a dramatic understatement. At the same time, however, they felt as though this was something they should be well accustomed to by now, and if not, it wasn't a bad time to start.


	3. Chapter 3

Dante watched as sweat gathered on the brows of the cadets and their chests heaved with their heavy breaths. They had been practicing combat drills for hours; the sun was high in the sky, and they were clearly exhausted. Her skilled eyes scanned the hoards of cadets, watching their moves and assessing their abilities; a task that was quite difficult given that some of them weren't even taking the drills seriously.

She gave a soft, mildly amused laugh at the sight of cadets Connie Springer and Sasha Braus. In the midst of the cadets taking the exercise seriously and the cadets that were attempting to look like they weren't slacking off, they were doing god-knows-what. The show gave her an awkward mix of emotions, mostly between irritation and amusement.

With all the other cadets, Dante gazed over them, determining their abilities quickly and efficiently. Mikasa Ackerman, Reiner Braun, Eren Jaeger, Jean Kirstein, and Annie Leonhardt: the cadets that caught her interest the most. They all displayed potential and a sort of aptitude for fighting that Dante almost considered them a threat.

 _Almost_ , she mentally snorted. Of all the one that caught her interest there were two that didn't seem to have much natural talent at all: Eren and Jean. Still, however, there was potential there and that was worth taking note of. Their tenacious and stubborn natures were like a double edged sword; it'd either take them far or get them eaten.

Even the more hopeless of cadets seemed to show at least some glimmer of hope. She'd have to break them in, and by God she would, but she'd have to tear them down in order to do it. Still, even if she managed to teach them every combat skill she had to offer, she knew that for some it would be for naught. Some of the cadets were comfortable, primarily due to the fact that they'd never seen a titan before in their lives; they were cocky, in short. She knew that when push came to shove, many of them would freeze up and be killed.

Dante quickly shook off the thought, instead opting to continue her assessment of the other cadets. Soon, however, her eyes stopped. This had to be the third or fourth time her eyes stopped on this particular cadet. All of the other cadets could be categorized as either talented or needs (drastic) improvement, all except for one: Marco Bott. He was some sort of outlier.

Dante watched on as the tall cadet went about his drills as told, sweat dripping from his brow as he sparred with each new partner, face set in an expression of determination. Brows furrowed, Marco grabbed his opponents arm, his other hand pressing against their shoulder blade, and he effectively flipped them over. He was victorious. All of his previous victories had been pretty much the same, but his victories were more so do to his opponents' sheer incompetence in combat rather than any real talent.

In short, his victories were a fluke and it was driving her up a wall just watching it; if she could label him as hopeless, she would.

Partner after partner, Bott would successfully defend himself and take the dagger or pin them down into submission; he was really working up a sweat. At this rate, even if he lost to every one of the actually gifted fighters, he would climb up the ranks purely due to all of the other imbeciles.

With an exasperated sigh, she looked away; not being able to handle much more of the embarrassing display.

Distracting herself by watching the other cadets perform their drills, her eyes landed on an interesting scene: Annie dropping Eren and Reiner like it was child's play. The sight brought out an obvious snort, followed by a laugh that faded into a series of amused snickers. Had that performance been her first impression of their combat abilities, she more than likely would've demoted them to field work to save whatever regimen they'd join the embarrassment. However, she knew it was more so due to Annie's skill rather than Eren and Reiner's lack of.

Dante's eyes narrowed as she looked on, amusement dancing in her eyes. Truth be told, she never expected a learning opportunity to present itself so soon.

"Leonhardt!" She shouted in authority while said cadet's body naturally falling into salute, expression as dry as ever. "That was marvelous; great form, little applied force, yet enough to use their strength against them."

Annie stayed silent, expression passive as Dante peered at her. Stepping closer, Dante peered at the cadet as her facial expression turned into that of a serious instructor.

"You took down Jaeger and Braun like it was nothing. It's clear that you know how to handle a stronger opponent, but how do you take on someone, or _something_ , that's bigger than you?"

Annie's expression faltered, but only for a mere half second. It was so fast, no one should've been able to notice, but Dante's keen eye caught the moment of hesitation.

"Cadets! Gather around!" She barked out an order.

All at once, the cadets ceased their activities and gathered around them, staring on curiously at Annie in stiff salute while Eren and Reiner lifted themselves from the ground.

"Can anyone tell me the point in these exercises?" Dante's eyes scanned the crowd, but each cadet remained silent, unsure of how to respond. Her lips formed into a small frown while she eyed down each and every cadet, silently urging them to answer.

"There is no point…"

"Care to explain, cadet?" Looking over her shoulder, her eyes landed on Jean, who stiffened slightly at her gaze.

"Well, hand to hand combat isn't exactly going to be effective against a titan. This whole thing is just a waste of time."

For long seconds, she stared him down, contemplating his response. Soon, however a soft chuckle left her lips. Running her fingers through her hair, Dante's lips parted to allow through amused laughs. Jean's face contorted to an almost exhausted expression. Apparently everything he said was just _so_ damn funny.

"You're not wrong, cadet." Dante shook her head, the last of her laughs dying off. "Hand to hand combat isn't effective against a titan, but knowing how to defend yourself is essential to survival."

The cadets listened on in interest while Dante's eyes fell back to Annie, who still stood in salute.

"I'll ask you again, cadet. How do you take down an opponent that's bigger than you?" Annie remained silent, expression hard as stone as they stared each other down. All those around them could feel the tension in the air; it was like a thick blanket.

Dante looked away and barked out to the crowd of cadets. "That's your assignment! How can you defeat an opponent that's bigger than you! Until I get an answer, I want to see all of you here everyday, bright and early! You're dismissed, cadets!"

"What kind of assignment is that?" Some of the cadets began to shout in protest while others slouched onto the ground, groaning in protest.

"Do you want to camp out here, instead?" She huffed, arms crossing over her chest, throwing them a daring look. All of the cadets got quiet at that, instead opting to grunt and groan under their breaths as they slouched their way off the training grounds.

…

Day after day, the cadets would wake at the crack of dawn and make their way to the training grounds. The first thing Dante would ask would be of their assignment: how do you defeat an opponent that's bigger than you? Each morning, no one would be able to answer, and she'd always respond with a disappointed shake of her head and a command to practice long hours and wake early the next morning.

The cadets were exhausted, and some were at the end of their tether. Training was simple enough, but with long hours under the heat of the sun, with no breaks, even the strongest among them soon began to feel the strain. Dante could see it in their eyes as they practiced: exhaustion and frustration. It was only natural that this sort of training would be frustrating. Most of them didn't see the purpose of this combat training, so it felt as though they were being punished for no reason. Some, however, sucked it up and kept up with her strict rules.

Dante looked out at the cadets. Their moves were sluggish today, as if having to wake up so much earlier than usual was finally starting to get to them. She paid no mind, though. If the cadets decided to join the Scout Regiment, they'd have to get used to being on the move even before the sun would peak from over the hills. If they decided to join the Garrison Regimen, the titans won't wait for them to wake from their midday nape. If the select few decided to join the Military Police, if ever titans managed to take Wall Sina, they won't wait for these green horns to get off their asses.

She could feel irritation bubbling in the pit of her stomach as she watched them, one hand rubbing over her face like a weak suppressant. Casually her eyes roamed over the cadets as they went through their drills in a half-assed manner, but stopped once they landed (for the _fifth_ time that day) on cadet Marco Bott. Her irritation was getting harder and harder to suppress. This kid was driving her up the wall; his eyes shining with determination and even though he looked tired, he was trying so _damn_ hard.

Dante was no fool. She knew that some of the cadets had long realized that this particular kind of training was pointless; some of them blatantly blew it off. That being said, she couldn't, for the life of her, figure out why this kid was trying so hard. Surely, he couldn't be so oblivious that he just simply hadn't realized it yet. Even the oblivious Eren Jaeger figured it out days prior. So why…?

Eye beginning to twitch in irritation, Dante felt herself march over in his direction. Without much thought, her fingers curled against the back of his collar and she proceeded to ungracefully drag cadet Bott from his sparring partner. Ungraceful because Marco, in a state of shock, lost his balance and was, more or less, a flailing mess while his body rather roughly dragged against the dirt.

"Stand up." With ease, Dante had tossed the poor cadet onto the ground, and now she stood before him with her hands pressed against her hips in a demanding pose.

...

Marco coughed, hand swatting at the cloud of dirt that had gathered around him before staring up at the woman in surprise. Just moments before, he had been peacefully sparring with his partner when she yanked him down and dragged him away.

"Stand up." She demanded again, and hesitantly, Marco stood, watching her cautiously while his brows furrowed in confusion. "Get into position; defend yourself."

Slowly, Marco got into a defensive position: knees bent and arms raised slightly. He felt more than a little bashful when Dante clicked her tongue at him and began to approach.

"Your stance is weak." Dante pushed at his chest with little effort and he stumbled backwards, trying harder than necessary to keep himself from falling down. "Fix your stance."

This was all too overwhelming for him. Marco looked at her skeptically as he attempted to fix his stance. His attempt, however, was met with a disapproving glare.

"Wrong. All wrong." Dante pushed at his chest again; this time he did fall over. "You're leaving yourself wide open."

Marco huffed, lifting himself off the ground and dusting himself off. Truth be told, these days of having to wake up early and practice under the glaring sun was getting to him; he was frustrated and tired, and Dante's constant pestering wasn't making it any better.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but I don't understand…" He muttered under his breath. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because you suck." Dante was straight and to the point, and her response more than surprised him. "You have no talent for fighting, and I have a hard time just watching you go through the drills."

"But I felt like I was doing well…"

"Of course you would think you were doing well." Dante sighed loudly. "Tell me….If an inexperienced fighter defeats someone with even less experienced than them, does that make them a good fighter?"

A look of confusion crossed the features of Marco's face as he tried to process her words. "...No?" He finally responded, uncertainty prevalent in his voice.

"Exactly. Taking that into consideration, do you really think you've been doing so well?"

Marco stared at her for long seconds, her words slowly sinking in. He pursed his lips as realization finally hit him. It was clear to Dante that he finally understood what she had been saying as a look of understanding, as well as embarrassment, crossed the features of his face.

With no further protest, Marco tried, once again, to correct his stance. Dante sighed once again, this time much softer than before, and stepped closer to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Widen your legs, so you won't fall over." Sliding a foot between his legs, she tapped at his ankles, effectively widening his stance.

"Make sure that when you bend your knees, they make a ninety degree angle; that'll keep your stance strong."

Without warning, Dante pushed at Marco's chest again, but this time he found that he was able to brace himself and didn't fall over. He was amazed, honestly. Just moments before she could just barely nudge him and he would be tumbling down. However, with just a few minor adjustments in his stance, he could see drastic improvement.

"That's just the most basic of basics in your training," Dante's voice snapped him from his stupor. "When you add other things on top of that, that's what'll determine if you can survive or not."

Marco gazed at her, an odd, new sense of respect for his superior bubbling within him. Before, he could never understand why this woman was charged with training them, but now he understood. She had experience far beyond her years, despite the fact that she couldn't have been much older than the rest of the cadets. However, now he felt like he could truly understand what made her qualified to be on par with Instructor Shadis. In away, the thought was almost terrifying as well. Just what had this woman gone through to know so much about combat and so much about survival at her age?

"You're dismissed, cadet. Get back to your drills."

Marco blinked, her words taking many seconds to sink in. When they finally did, however, he gave her a quick salute and scurried off; Dante giving him a strange look, all the while.

* * *

A/N: Okay, so I feel like this was kind of a rushed chapter... sorry! I didn't really know how to move the story along, but I don't want character development to seemed rushed, but at the same time I wanted to just get to the point... GAH! Please comment, and tell me your thoughts: what you liked, what you didn't like, etc. Tell me if you think this is moving too fast or too slow. In a way, I feel like it's too fast, but in other ways I feel that it's too slow, so I really want to hear from you! Thank you for reading my story, and I hope you enjoy!


	4. Chapter 4

End of week two, beginning of week three: the cadets were still making their way to the training grounds bright and early. Some of the cadets weren't even attempting to do their drills, the ones that did so were sluggish and pathetic, and Dante had to send a handful of dropout cadets to do field work earlier that morning.

Sitting in the shade of a tree, arms crossed, Dante gazed out at the crowd of cadets, the space filled with the sound of exhaustion. It was hot, more so than the day before. Sweat gathered on her brow and began to bead, falling from her temple and journeying along the contours of her face, down the skin of her neck before finally gathering at her collarbone. Almost unconsciously, she swiped the back of her hand against her chin; her skin was damp and sticky. Crinkling her nose, she sniffed; the air around was heavy with the odor of sweat, the taste of salt on her tongue just as unpleasant. Many times she contemplated cutting them slack, but then they would never learn. It would be far better for them to go through this small trial in order to survive later. At least, that's what she reasoned with herself.

Some cadets continued to train despite it all. Of course, among them was cadet Jaeger. Arms up, knees bent and feet shoulder width apart, Eren stared down his opponent while getting ready to lunge. His opponent, cadet Leonhardt, stood with arms up in defense and one leg slightly arched, ready for a swift counter. Dante was well aware of an agreement between the two cadets in which Annie would train Eren. The agreement was arranged just a couple days ago.

Eren stalked around Annie, circling slowly, one foot swinging behind the other as he searched for her blind spot. He struggled, she was diligent; her eyes followed his every move while he found no opening. Her stance was strong and steady, so still it looked as though she wasn't breathing. They paid no mind to their surroundings, yet they were also painfully aware.

She took a breath.

Eren charged.

It happened quickly; palm bracing the wooden dagger, he thrusted low. In response, she pivoted on her heel so fast the move seemed as natural as leaves flowing with the wind. She dodged the trust narrowly, swinging her other leg to aim her knee at his back.

He ducked.

It was a dance; it was survival. They were like two predators fighting for food. Annie was a tiger: swift, powerful, yet patient. Eren was a wolf: tenacious, hungry, and bloodthirsty.

Eren abandoned the dagger, twisting his body and moving his arm to loop around Annie's waist.

She had him.

Swooping her leg low and grabbing his collar, Annie flipped Eren to the ground in the blink of an eye.

Dante was impressed. In a short amount of time, Eren had improved drastically. Before instructing the cadets, when Dante read his file, she took note that it was likely he would rise in the ranks and it seems that prediction was coming to fruition.

As she observed, it looked as though Annie was explaining something to Eren, the latter looking amazed all the while. However, the moment was cut short when suddenly cadet Braun (quite literally) flew into the scene. Annie moved away quickly, but Eren was not so lucky, Reiner falling directly onto him.

Reiner, looking dazed, rolled over and sat up, leaning on him arm for support. Eren, looking winded, looked at the looming figuring that approached. Annie, looking cooly passive, peered over her shoulder at the intruder.

Dante observed with interest as cadet Ackerman approached and stood over them, face darkened with jealousy. All of the other cadets stopped to look on, curious to see how the events would unfold.

"Hey Annie," it was so quiet, Mikasa's low voice carried over the whole of the training grounds. "Why don't you teach those moves to me as well?"

Annie was silent for many seconds. "I wonder about that," Dante couldn't pick up the tone in her voice; she was guarded, "these moves were intended for humans. I really don't think someone like you needs them."

The tension in the air was thick, like a thick blanket had fallen onto the field. It was as if she could feel the heat in their eyes from her position on the ground, under the shade of a nearby tree.

"But I'm curious if they work on a beast."

Dante stood, eyes alight with interest. All of the other cadets were already putting in their bets on who would win. They chattered among each other, their voices merging together in an excited buzz; the votes were equal among them. Crossing her arms across her chest, Dante looked on, eager to see how this would unfold. Who would charge first? Who would take the lead? Who would prevail? Who would win?

This was a battle no one thought would ever happen, yet it was a battle everyone dreamed of. Two forces, each so strong in their own right, yet so different it was impossible to know who would win against the other unless they both duked it out.

As far as rank was concerned, Mikasa was superior. She excelled in every aspect of training, with such natural talent it was almost frightening. Annie, on the other hand, was guarded and kept to herself. She had secrets, that much was clear, but just how much she was holding back, Dante couldn't tell. If Annie was a tiger, then Mikasa was a dragon; both forces to be reckoned with. Still, she wanted to see this outcome. The outcome of this little strife could potentially change the whole dynamic of the 104th trainee squadron.

Reluctantly, Dante edged forward; as much as she wanted to watch this showdown, it was not in the trainee's best interest. It would potentially change the whole dynamic, yes, but whether for better or for worse… Dante was not willing to put such a possibility in the hands of two cadets duking it out over a hot-headed boy.

"Alright, break it up!" Dante clapped her hands as she broke through the crowd.

Mikasa and Annie stared at each other for many long seconds, holding each other's gaze as though they could kill each other with that alone. Soon, they backed down. All of the other cadets, however, groaned in disappointment when their anticipated entertainment was interrupted.

"No griping!" She barked, a frown quickly finding its way onto the features of her face. "None of you have the luxury to slack off! Not unless one of you can tell me how you can defeat something that's bigger than you?"

"This is stupid!"

With a slow and soft sigh, Dante turned her gaze to the only loudmouthed cadet that always managed to have something to say, Jean. She looked at him with a mildly annoyed expression while his own reflected the same kind of agitation.

"We all know you're talking about the titans! There's just no way we can take on something that big with hand to hand combat!"

At that, all of the other cadets began to whisper among themselves, suddenly finding the courage to speak what's been buzzing through their mind. But Dante was silent. She remained silent for many seconds and soon all the cadets joined, questioning her with their eyes. The expression on her face was hard and unyielding, contemplating, and beneath it all was subtle traces of understanding.

"Alright cadets, gather around; I've got a story to tell." The cadets stood with a dumb look in their eyes. "I don't have all day. Move it!"

Quickly, the cadets gathered around, forming a circle around her, just close enough to hear.

"I know it's frustrating," all of the cadets were caught off guard; her voice was much softer than usual. "Only a small portion of you have actually seen a titan, but even so, all of you are smart enough to know that, logically, hand to hand combat can do little against them."

They listened carefully.

"Well, what the hell does that matter?" Dante's voice carried a soft hiss to her words, a dare to challenge her words. "Your top priority, above all else, is to survive, and it is my job to help prepare you for that!"

Some leaned in with interest.

"There once was a man that snuck beyond the walls… He'd never seen a titan before and wanted to see with his own eyes these monsters humanity feared. So he stowed away in a supply carriage of the Scout Regiment and went beyond the wall. Mind you, this was before ODM gear had even been invented. Anyone care to guess what happened to him?"

All remained silent.

"A titan came; he had only a small dagger to protect himself. When the titan reached out and had him in its grasp, just as he was about to be eaten, the man used that dagger to escape. Jumping on the back of a scout's horse, he returned to inside Wall Maria and lived."

Dante looked around at the, usually bustling, quiet cadets. They all seemed deeply intrigued by her tale as they all began to process her words.

"My point is this: you never know what predicament you might get into. For those of you going to the Scout Regiment, any knowledge and skills that may help you survive is essential. For those of you planning to join the Garrison, Wall Maria has fallen, how do you plan to protect the other walls? And those heading to the Military Police, these walls will _not_ hold forever. When they fall, what will you do?"

Almost simultaneously, many of the cadets bowed their heads, a near hopeless look passing onto the features of their face. Even the hot tempered, rebellious, chatty cadets kept silent.

A soft sigh left Dante's lips. "Early dismissal, cadets. You get the rest of the day off."

…

Marco stood under a scattered cascade of water, head partially bowed to keep the droplets from getting into his eyes. Drops of water landed onto his hair, sliding onto his temple and journeying along the outline of his freckled cheeks. It was late afternoon, on the cusp of twilight, and the cadets had been given the rest of the day off. With how for that past two weeks their training consisted of long hours of training and short hours of sleep, many of the cadets had began to treasure rest over hygiene. That being said, with this new day off, the cadets happily used the time to shower and sleep. Marco was among the last group to step into the shower. The water was cold and sent an uncomfortable chill down his spine, but he paid no mind. Dante's tale played in his ears like a broken record.

These walls will not hold forever. When they fall what will you do?

He had always had a goal in mind: to change the dynamic of the Military Police, but what will he do if things don't go as planned? It was something he'd never really thought of, honestly.

He heaved a frustrated sigh, turning off the cold water before running a hand through his drenched hair. Wrapping a towel around his waist, Marco stepped out of the shower, goosebumps rising on his skin at the rough touch of cool air that assaulted him. The washroom was empty with the exception of him; he was alone. He hadn't realized that he'd stayed in the shower so long, lost in his thoughts. Though, he was still lost. The silence of the washroom was so loud it seemed to screech in his ears, but he found escape in his thoughts, so in his thoughts he stayed.

He wanted to be stronger.

It repeated in his head like a mantra, over and over until the words blended together to become a distinct feeling; a desire, a craving. An instinct so prevalent in him it was almost addictive. Stronger was a necessity for his goals. It was an echo that whispered to him; stronger, stronger, _stronger_.

Marco rubbed his hand over his face, trying to chase the thoughts away. He needed a distraction from his thoughts; they were screaming at him, now. The silence made it louder. But they completed with each other. Everything seemed so loud he could feel his head about to split open, a headache quickly forming.

He _needed_ to become stronger.

…

Dante looked up from her pile of documents at the sound of a knock on her door. Briefly glancing out the window, she saw it was close to the head of night. All of the cadets should be sound asleep by now.

The knock sounded again.

Curious, Dante removed her person from her desk, and slowly crossed the small expanse of her room, toward the door. Her hand reached for the doorknob, fingers clenching and unclenching all the while. Naturally, her guard was up, mind unconsciously thinking of negative outcomes. Who was on the other side of the door? What was their intent?

The knock sounded again.

Reluctantly, Dante jerked the door open, surprise jumping in her chest at the sight before her.

"You wear glasses?"

"What do you want, Bott?"

Dante peered up at the cadet from over the rim of the glasses that rested on the bridge of her nose. His stance was stiff and awkward as he stood before her in his sleepwear. He must've just stepped out of the shower not long ago, she noted; the ends of his hair were still dripping wet.

"I didn't know you wore glasses…" Marco coyly rubbed the back of his head, with drawing his hand immediately once he was reminded of the state of his hair.

She let out a long sigh, turning her back to him to return to her desk. On the way, she grabbed a towel off a nearby chair and tossed it to him.

"Dry your hair. You're getting my floor wet."

An embarrassed look crossed the features of his face as he caught the towel and proceeded to dry his hair. Dante sat at her desk, crossing one leg on the chair and the other lifted to be used as a rest for her arm. She leaned back against her chair and lifted the documents she'd been reading before while lifting a quaint mug of coffee up to her lips.

There was a silence between them, the only sounds echoing through the room being the sounds of pages turning, the shuffling of documents, and the soft clank of a mug being placed on the wood of a desk. Marco gazed at her as she worked, hands slowly going still as the towel had soaked up as much water as it could. She worked diligently, it seemed, but one glance at the stack of papers told him she'd probably just put it off til the last minute.

Dante seemed overly aware of his presence, he noted. Her movements looked fluid, yet also calculated. Every time she lifted her mug to her lips her arm moved almost mechanically, as if planned far in advance. Her eyes would scan down the document in her hands only to inevitably go back to the top to read again, doing so several times before finally moving onto the next document. He doubted she was really paying any attention to those documents.

"Do you need something, cadet?" She said finally, setting the papers down with a defeated huff, completely disregarding them. Now, she focused only on reclining in her chair while sipping at her coffee, which seemed to almost be finished.

Marco stayed silent for several moments, thoughts running through his mind as he inwardly searched for the words to say. But she was patient. Dante gazed at him through her glasses, occasionally taking more sips of her less than lukewarm coffee. It was cool on her tongue and down her throat, the bitterness urging her to rub her tongue against the roof of her mouth.

"Will you train me?"

"Huh?" The sound left her lips as if on instinct; she was clearly surprised. Her glasses slipped down the bridge of her nose and her mug was placed so close to her lips, waiting to be drank from. Dante was sure the look on her face was comical; her brows were raised in such a way that made her surprise very apparent. "Why do you want me to train you?"

"I need to be stronger!"

"Why do you need to be stronger?"

Each question and answer was said immediately after the other, almost as though it had been rehearsed. By now, the coffee mug had been abandoned on the desk and Dante was leaning over it, hands pressed to the wood while her arms supported her weight. Her brows were furrowed as she tried to comprehend the sudden request.

"I… I want to join the Military Police… and change the way things are from the inside!"

The expression on Marco's face was one of determination. Dante's expression, however, changed from one of confusion to one of near exasperation. Heaving a sigh, she removed her glasses and rubbed her hand over her face, her thumb and forefinger massaging the bridge of her nose.

"Get out."

"Please!"

She looked at him through her long lashes. She could tell he was serious and that his reasons were genuine; she could see it in his eyes. They were determined, noble, and blissfully naive.

"Cadet, I'm going to ask you a serious question…" Circling around her desk, Dante approached, stopping only once she stood in front of him, looking up at the slightly taller boy. "What is the true enemy of man?"

Marco opened his mouth to respond, the answer seeming painfully obvious, but stopped short. Right as the words were about to leave his mouth, his tongue felt heavy and a dull pain pressed on his chest.

"The titans are, of course." He forced his tongue to form those words.

No, that wasn't right. He could tell by the expression on Dante's face. Just moments before her expression was expecting and challenging, but now only disappointment remained.

"You're an idealistic fool." Pressing her hand against his chest, she urged him out the door. "Until you can find out a proper answer to that question, I don't want to hear another word of this foolish request of yours."

With that, she closed the door on him; firmly, but quietly.


	5. Chapter 5

It was dark. It was dark, and a variety of noises slithered through the surrounding space. Marco rested, his back weighing against the uncomfortable surface that was meant to be his bed. He stared up at nothing while everyone else seemed to be sleeping peacefully, snores and the ruffling of sheets from the restless sleepers sounding around him. It wasn't that sleep was out of reach. Occasionally, he would feel his eyelids try desperately to droop down, coaxing him to sleep. But he wouldn't. With every gradual attempt of his lashes to rendezvous with the surface of his cheeks, he would hear the voice of Dante echo in the far recesses of his mind. What is the true enemy of man? He mulled over that question until it felt as though his mind would form into a tightly rolled sphere from the circle laps his thoughts ran. Of course, the true enemy of man was the titans. The titans were the reason mankind now flirted so intimately with extinction.

A smooth sigh left the small gap in his ever parted lips. They felt dry and cracked against his tongue as he swiped the wet appendage over them. He turned to rest on his side, an almost vain attempt to keep sleep away. He wanted to muse a bit longer. His eyes conspired with the rest of his body. He was fighting a hopeless battle.

The titans; it repeated in his head, like a mantra. Still, the puzzle pieces remained sprawled out before him, refusing to put itself together. When he tried to fit the pieces together they were deceitful until the end. Just when he thought he'd started to create the picture, a crucial piece would refuse to fit. He was forced to start again: hand to hand combat, titans, survival, the enemy of man, the Military Police. One of those things was unlike the other. Maybe none of them correlated directly and this was all one sick, twisted coincidence. He wanted to believe that. Somewhere inside, a voice nagged that it wasn't worth dwelling on. It was nothing more than a coincidence, albeit an odd one. The titans came and nearly wiped out humanity. Humanity hid behind large walls, a last ditch effort for survival. Hand to hand combat was ineffective against the titans, but it was still somehow considered a crucial survival tactic. He wanted to join the Military Police to change the system from within. He wanted to fix the flaws within the system.

Marco's brows began to furrow. The circle started anew. His thoughts began to run a new lap, a new circle, yet another tight ball for his mind to wrap itself into. He haphazardly tossed the blankets from his body. The thin, sweet veil of warmth invaded by a rush of cool air. The chill served to keep sleep at bay, but for how long, he didn't know. He was putting off the inevitable. He was doing nothing but putting off the ultimate outcome; sleep was closing in. He tried to fight it off, curling his legs up to his chest just to stretch them back out. He would occasionally toss from side to side, but his movements were sluggish and soon his body began to anchor itself against the rough surface of his sheets. For a moment, he could've sworn he heart Jean, who slept in the bunk above him, grumble and curse his restlessness. If it were any other night, and maybe if his body wasn't in such deep protest to him using any form of energy, he might have humored his sleeping friend. However, Marco's mind was occupied by the cruel exercise of thoughts a certain pixie faced instructor set in motion. Even when he wasn't training his body during long, non-stop hours of the day, his mind worked itself dead at night. He felt like his brain was going to burst. It felt like there was some odd sort of constricted feeling within the protective space of his skull. It was as though his body was beginning to reject the notion that being awake was a natural possibility or even a reality. Awake, alert, motion, thought, and anything that didn't pertain to sleep no longer existed. Sleep. His body craved it and soon his body overpowered his will. The lids of his eyes bowed in submission as sleep began to overtake him. The dark of night darkened still as he drew his last waking breath.

…

Dante stood before the cadets as they stood in salute, in a straight line, before her. Her arms were crossed over her chest and her foot tapped impatiently against the dirt of the training grounds. Hazel eyes scanned over tired faces. Dismissing them early the day before did wonders for them, however fatigue still seemed to loom over them like a thick veil. Sweat gathered on their brows, dripping down the outlines of their faces, but none dared to break their salute to wipe it away. Some seemed to waver in their stance, the call of sleep causing them to sway to and fro.

"How do you defeat an opponent that's bigger than you?" Dante had asked this question everyday for last few weeks. The cadets were nearly numb to it. The heat bore down on them and they saved their breath to reserve any amount of energy that they could. Only a handful of the cadets managed to stand tall and strong, but their eyes betrayed them. Their eyes flashed with hints of restlessness; they were standing on their last leg.

Dante's eyes narrowed, squinting through the intense light of the sun that bore down on them. Eyes followed her every move. The cadets watched her pace up and down their line, but none of them stepped forward to offer an answer. Truthfully, she was beginning to lose hope in the 104th cadet squad. The only reason she gave them so much of her patience was simply because she knew at least _one_ of these cadets knew the answer, but whoever it was wasn't willing to offer it up. So be it. The whole 104th squad would just have to suffer it out until that one person decides to step forward. That's what she initially told herself, at least. She could only spend so much time training them and if they didn't learn what they needed to by the steadily approaching deadline, she'd be sending them all to their graves. That, and even her patience was starting to dwindle.

A sigh forced its way from parted lips, her chest rising and falling with the heaved breath. Her eyes scanned the crowd of exhausted cadets before setting on a tree. It stood tall and proud, directly behind the neatly formed lines the cadets had formed in rows. She pursed her lips in thought before coming to the conclusion that this tree would be sufficient enough as a visual aid to this apparent difficult lesson she was trying to instill upon them.

"Since none of you have enough sense to be able to answer the question, let's try this from a different angle," Dante moved forward, arms crossed over her chest while a fist rested below her chin. She contemplated the visual aid as she walked toward it, eyes never leaving its impressive stature. She was sure that this would be a sufficient hint in establishing at least a foundation for these nitwit cadets to figure out the answer to her question, the question she'd been asking for nearly a month now. Determination is what bubbled within her, that along with an unyielding desire to drill this lesson into them is what moved her. It moved her until she was faced with an obstacle, an obstacle that had a face and with that face said obstacle peered down at her. Moving her line of sight from the tree to this apparent obstacle, she was greeted by the view of cadet Marco Bott before her. She stared at him for long seconds and couldn't help but notice the, very apparent, dark circles that hung low beneath his eyes.

"Part the waters, cadet," Dante commanded, only to be met with a bewildered expression. "Move." She rephrased forcefully, a near exasperated look settling onto the features of her face.

Looking a bit frazzled, Marco stumbled out of the way, all the cadets lined up behind him following suit. Hooded eyes watched as the cadets made way and soon she was walking again. It took no more than a few seconds until Dante was practically a step away from the base of the tree. Slowly, she lifted her hand and pressed it against the bark that enclosed the base. It felt rough against the tips of her fingers, threatening to give her a splinter is she failed to take caution.

"This is a tree!" Dante called out, suddenly turning on her heel to face the cadets. She was met with silence and a crowd of bewildered expressions. "Imagine this tree is a titan. How would you knock it down?"

She was met with more silence, but she could see gears turning. Somewhere in those cobweb filled heads, some of these cadets were starting to finally grasp for the answer. Those gears were old, rickety and struggled at first, but at least they were turning. Dante wanted to snort. She knew some of the cadets knew the answer to this needlessly prolonged lesson all along. Why they refused to enlighten the other cadets, she didn't know. Her eyes subconsciously began to shift toward Annie, who stood in her usual stoic manner. They didn't stay for long, however. Her eyes began to shift down the line of cadets. She knew there had to be more than just Annie that knew the answer. Her eyes darted toward Eren and his small group. They lingered on Armin and Mikasa, but fairly quickly drifted away.

Annie was a machine, she acted with a clearly defined purpose. In contrast, Mikasa was an animal that fought with pure instinct. That being said, Dante suspected Annie knew the correct response, because Annie had the fighting experience and a fighting style that suggested she did. Mikasa, despite her natural aptitude, had less experience and seemed to show greater insight when under the pressures of battle.

In regards to Armin, Dante half expected him to figure out the answer by now. According to the reports Shadis gave her, he regarded the cadet as a genius. Maybe she expected too much from him. Considering his limited knowledge in the field of battle and his overall stature, it was clear he was more book smart than anything else. Battle was not his field of expertise. Still, she figured with a little more training and special attention in certain areas, he could prove to be a tactician to surpass them all.

Finally, Eren. Dante felt a little sorry for him. He seemed to be the type of boy that was stuck in his own world and way of thinking. He seemed to be a rather open minded person, in a way, but that restriction seemed to hold him back. He seemed very one-track minded. Eren was so focused on his overall goal, sometimes the things around him eluded him. Maybe he would've eventually figured out the near pointlessness of hand to hand combat training without someone telling him, eventually. She figured he'd probably only realize the answer to this lesson when one of his friends or fellow cadets answered instead. Still, she could see him genuinely trying to deduce the answer to the question. His heart was in the right place, she'd give him that.

Eyes moving onto the next group, her eyes landed on Sasha, Connie, Jean, and Marco. Sasha and Connie were doing god-knows-what while Jean seemed content to relax and put no effort in figuring out the answer. Marco seemed to be the only one among the group that seemed to be trying to figure it out.

Dante sighed heavily, she knew Jean wasn't an idiot. He was probably among the first of the cadets to realize how ineffective hand to hand combat was against a titan. However, as soon as realization hit, his effort towards this particular part of the lesson diminished greatly. At least, however, he put on an act of trying to look productive (unlike his companions, Sasha and Connie). Jean sat on the ground, legs crossed in front of him while his chin rested against his fist. If Dante hadn't been observing him, she would've sworn he was seriously thinking about the lesson, however, his occasionally drooping eyelids gave him away.

Dante rubbed her hand against her face, looking rather passive despite the frustration brewing within her. As she peaked through the gaps in her fingers, her eyes landed on Marco. Hooded eyes intently observed the cadet. He stood, but barely, as he seemed to genuinely ponder the answer to this lesson. Occasionally, he would stagger, catching himself and vainly try to shake off his fatigue before continuing to ponder. His eyes seemed to fight with him, wanting nothing more than to fall into the sweet embrace of sleep. She doubted he would figure anything out in his current state. Every time even a sliver of the answer was within his reach, fatigue would hold it back, like a wall blocking any meaningful progress. She could see the frustration building in his eyes that were weighed with heavy black bags.

She looked away, pursing her lips as she drifted into her own endless thoughts.

"You cut the tree from the base…"

It was a soft voice, one that Dante almost didn't hear. Still, it was enough to knock her from her wandering thoughts. Looking around, her eyes landed on the source of the voice, cadet Armin Arlert. He seemed a bit unsure of himself, but she could tell that Armin knew he was looking in the right direction.

"Elaborate, Arlert."

"Well, if the tree is a titan, attacking the legs would make it much easier to cause the titan to fall." He seemed to gain more confidence as he spoke. "In that way, it only makes sense to attack the base."

"Yes, yes!" Dante cheered, a grin tugging at the corners of her lips. "You're on the right track."

Armin continued, "Also, with something so big, it would have to reach down to get us, which would cause it to be off balance and easy to topple over."

Dante nodded in satisfaction. "You're getting close, but that isn't quite the answer. Based off of that, can anyone guess what the full answer is?" Silence; she was met with nothing but silence, and to that her brow twitched and an unamused look settled onto her face once again. Sighing heavily, she crossed her arms and shook her head. "Fine. It was a small step, but still bigger than what you've made recently. For that, I'll give all of you the rest of the day off."

...

Everyone cheered. It felt like a joyous occasion, even though it was just an ordinary day. This was their second day off in a row from training.

"Way to go, Armin!" Springer had a wide grin on his face as he slung his arm around the other cadet's shoulder. "Gettin' us a second day off!"

Armin looked uncomfortable, to say the least. Uncomfortable, with a hint of bashfulness. Marco felt a little sorry for him. Still, he laughed. A smile tugging at his lips as he relished in the joyous atmosphere. Everyone seemed to acting as though this was a special occasion, even if it wasn't. Even Jean and Eren were trying to act cordial toward each other. It seems they didn't want to spend their fleeting moments of free time arguing with one another.

It felt right to go with the flow; to smile and laugh along with the others. He briefly wondered if he always did that, going with the flow, but quickly shook the thought away. The sun had gone down not too long ago, a hush falling on the surrounding area; the only disturbance was that of the dining hall. Still, this disturbance was only meant to last for a moment. It was only meant to last till the occupants' bellies were full and their bodies longed for sleep.

Marco, however, longed for sleep even before entering the cafeteria. He had bags under his eyes from lack of sleep. Even Jean took notice, occasionally pointing it out and picking on him for it. Of course, a number of other cadets developed bags under their eyes, however Marco's was among the worse.

"Seriously, you could carry groceries in those bags." Jean commented.

"Ha ha," was Marco's response, the sound quickly transitioning into a breathy yawn.

"You should get some sleep."

"You're right." With that, Marco stood from his seat and stalked toward the exit, leaving behind the mess hall full of cadets in order to seek sanctuary in his bed.

Outside of the dining hall was quiet, almost eerily so. All he could hear were the sounds of his steps and the wind that rustled on the other side of the walls. It was creepy, to say the least, but he was focus solely on what lied before him. He walked and walked down the halls, passing shower rooms and even the room in which the cadets usually went to rest. He was tired, plagued with fatigue, but he was following the endless paths of his mind. His subconscious led his body and his body moved his legs, one foot in front of the other, until he came to a steady halt in front of a familiar door. Tired eyes stared at the door before him, eyelids lagging, falling before slowly lifted, but only halfway. He was so tired, but still, his hand lifted, forming a fist as his knuckles lazily drummed against the wood of the door.

At first, no sound greeted him. It was just as silent on the other side of the door as it was where he stood. Marco was beginning to question if he had knocked on the wrong door, but then he heard it: the faint sound of footsteps causing the floor to softly creek as the person approached the door. It was merely a handful of seconds before the doorknob began to turn and the door swung open.

A small head peaked out, hair slightly disheveled and glasses covered eyes level to his collar bone. She blinked slowly, one, twice, and then she blinked again. Eventually, her tired eyes rose to meet his, blinking once more before seeming to realize that there was someone standing in front of her. She squinted at him, her sleepy mind seemingly trying to file through her memory just to recognize him.

"Bott…" she muttered blankly before moving back into the room, leaving the door open for him.

Marco swallowed thickly before following her inside, eyes scanning his surroundings. There were papers and books scattered everywhere. Dante ran her hands through her mess of hair as she easily stepped over the scattered mess on the floor. It seemed as though his unexpected visit woke her from a nap.

"Did I come at a bad time?"

"Did you come at a good time?" She countered his question with one of her own.

He supposed her question was rhetorical, so he remained silent, awkwardly shifting from one foot to the other in the midst of Dante's cluttered room. He instead opted to observe her as she plopped herself down at the seat that sat beyond her desk. Tiredly, she ran her hands over her face in a vain attempt to chase sleep away.

"Why are you here, Bott?" Her question escaped her lips as a yawn.

"Will you train me?"

"This again?" She groaned, a grimace fitting itself onto the features of her face. "Get out."

"But-"

"No." Her voice was stern, stopping the words in his throat before he could speak. "I bet you haven't even figured out the answer to the question I gave you. You can't even figure out the lesson during combat training. How can I possibly train you?"

"I know, but-!" Marco's voice raised, before stopping short, trying to find the words to say. "I know...but I still have to try. I want to change things, and it's like you said… These walls won't hold forever… What will I do when they fall?"

Dante didn't show it on her face, but she was mildly surprised. He had actually been listening to her throughout combat training. Eyes lidded and slightly narrowed, Dante peered at him, lips pursed in thought.

Marco shifted his weight from one foot to the other, looking away from Dante as her eyes roamed over the features of his face, feeling uncomfortable. He stiffened at the sound of her shifting around, eyes immediately finding their way back to her. Smoothly, she lifted her person from her chair, moving away from her desk to cross the expanse of the room until she stood before him. They both remained silent for many long seconds. Marco looked down at her, fists clenching and unclenching at his side as a bead of sweat made its way down the contours of his face.

"You're bigger than me." Dante spoke clearly, head tipped backward to gaze up at the younger male. Marco found himself in Jean's position when Dante first appeared to them. She stood so close he could feel her breath hit against his chin.

He swallowed nervously.

"How do I beat you?"

"Um…" Marco swallowed thickly, looking everywhere around the room but at the woman that stood before him. His body was as stiff as a board and his voice sounded unsure. "You would… attack my legs… to… make me lose balance?"

"Oh?" Dante hummed as she regarded him. She stepped closer, placing her hand against his solar plexus.

The cadet's face went bright red at their proximity; she was practically pressed against him. He stumbled backwards, and she followed suit, until he found his back pressed against the door. It felt like his throat was constricting itself; he was so nervous he couldn't speak.

"I don't need to attack your legs to make you lose balance." Her words were almost taunting. "You're clumsy. I could attack anywhere and you would fall over."

Breath caught in his throat, Marco simply nodded to indicate he understood. Dante stepped away from him and suddenly he felt he could breathe again. His legs seemed unstable, like they would give out from under him.

"Cadet Arlert said that earlier today," she started. "He was close, but that's not quite the answer. If that were it, I wouldn't have been able to push you around just now."

He nodded again, that being about all he could manage.

Dante sighed in response, lifting her hand to rub the back of her neck. "You're clumsy and you weigh more than me, so I can attack you anywhere to get you to fall over. I'm using your weight against you."

Marco's eyes seemed to light up with realization. It was a light that seemed to make his eyes sparkle as they widened at his newfound knowledge; his lips parted in awe. Dante almost had to look away. However, his brow furrowed and his lips formed a tight line, the light leaving as soon as it had come.

"But that would only work on the smaller class titan…"

Dante nodded. "You're right," she simply stated.

His brow furrowed further. "So these skills won't help us at all against the larger class titans?"

"Not entirely," Dante hummed, moving her hand to softly rub at her chin. "These are principles that can also be used against the larger titans. It would just be harder to implement them."

Marco pursed his lips, eyes lowering to look at his feet. He couldn't help but notice all of the papers that were scattered around him.

Dante contemplated him quietly, leaning back against her desk as he seemed to lose himself in his thoughts. The bags under his eyes seemed all the more prominent in the dim lighting of the room. She couldn't help but wonder how much sleep he'd been getting; or rather, how much sleep he wasn't getting.

"For now, don't think about it too much." Dante lightly shook her head, shooing away her wandering thoughts.

Marco lifted his gaze, blinking at the woman curiously. "What do you mean?"

"This is only your first lesson," she started. "It will all make sense in the meantime, so don't focus on this too much right now."

The cadet nodded in understanding, pursing his lips in thought. He supposed she was right, there was no need to think so much about the full underlying meaning of the first lesson.

Marco furrowed his brows once more before his eyes widened. "My first lesson?" He took a step forward, half-consciously minding the scattered papers on the floor. "Does that mean… you'll teach me?"

Dante's lips pulled downward into a frown at the cadet's sudden bout of enthusiasm. She had only meant to subtly make an implication, inwardly hoping he wouldn't raise it. Clearly, she expected too much.

"Yes, your first lesson." A soft chuckle fell from her lips despite herself. "And yes, I'll teach you."

A wide, gummy smile spread across Marco's lips at her words. His smile was infectious; Dante had to consciously keep the corners of her lips from tugging upward at the sight. The cadet seemed ready to burst at the seams, but Dante raised her hand to stop him.

"Don't raise it." She said simply, moving forward to shoo him out of the room. "It's getting late, you should sleep."

"But-" He wanted to ask her about the next lesson, and how they would proceed from there.

"No buts." Dante's voice was firm and left no room for arguments.

Marco looked down at her, lips tightly sealed shut as he suddenly found himself standing on the other side of the door, in the hall. He watched as she moved to close him out.

"Oh!" Suddenly, she stopped, looking back up at him through the crack of the door. "I shouldn't have to say this, but I will. Don't go talking to the other cadets about this. It's important that they figure all of this out on their own. Got it?"

Dante stared at him long and hard, a satisfied look settling on the features of her face only after Marco gave a nod of understanding. And with that, she quietly shut the door behind her.

Marco stood there, in the dark hall, staring at her closed door for many long seconds. There was a faint light coming from the small opening at the bottom of her door providing what little light that could be found. Now, he couldn't help the giant grin that settled on the features of his face. It took everything in him to keep from leaping with joy. Instead, he took many deep breaths to calm his excited heart.

Eventually, he took a small step back, casting the door that lead to Dante's room a final glance before making his way back to his own sleeping quarters. His eyes were alight with determination and his fists clenched at his side from a strange mix of excitement and anxiety.

...

"This is the last day!" Dante's voice rang out to the sea of cadets. "I only have a year to train you lots in combat. It's been nearly a month and you still haven't gotten past lesson one!"

The cadets remained silent, hold stiff in their salute. It was early, as usually, and the sun was only just beginning to peek up from the horizon. Still, the air around them was humid. It weighed on them like a blanket; the sun had barely emerged, and it was already beginning to feel a bit too warm for anyone's liking.

"I don't know if I'm making this too complicated, or if you're all just thick…" She was beginning to lose patience. "If no one gets it by the end of the day, I'll just have to beat the lesson into you!"

By the looks on their faces, Dante could tell they were just as exasperated as she. Still, she was stubborn. She was determined that these cadets would learn this lesson, one way or another. Slowly striding down the line of cadets, eyes scanning the features of their faces, she could tell her methods were wearing them down. Eventually, she figured, they'd get too fatigued to think properly. Dante knew she needed to end this lesson today. It was getting to the point where all of her other lessons would be crammed together.

Heaving a sigh, tapping her foot impatiently, she began to think they were a lost cause when something caught her attention, bringing her from her thoughts.

Someone staggered. It was quick and Dante only saw the movement in her peripheral vision, but she knew a cadet had staggered; swayed ever so slightly out of line before straightening themselves, as if she wouldn't notice. Normally, this was something she'd just ignore. After these weeks of waking early and retiring late, it was inevitable that someone would slip up. However, they were pressed for time and she'd spent more time on this particular lesson than she'd originally intended.

"Son of a-" Dante swore under her breath, pivoting on her heel and began marching toward the offender. "Springer!"

Said cadet blanched, spine stiffening as Dante approached him. He had desperately hoped she missed his stumble, his careless slip up, but apparently she saw it. The constant training, unbearable heat, and little rest was starting to weigh down on him and for a short moment, he'd nearly fallen asleep standing up. He cursed under his breath. He was sure the habits of his fellow cadet Sasha Braus was starting to rub off on him. Falling asleep while standing is something only she could've pulled off. He cursed again.

"Since you'd clearly rather be sleeping than listening," she started, grabbing cadet Springer by his collar and gracelessly shoving him before the rest of the cadets. "You tell me, how do you defeat someone bigger than you?"

Connie struggled to find his footing, but when he did, he sloppily fixed his salute. His back was stiff and his shoulders were tense. Sweat trickled down from his temple, tickling the contours of his face before ultimately gathering at the point of his chin. It gathered until a small droplet plummeted to the ground below. Eyes scanning the faces before him, he could see some of his fellow cadets vainly trying to hold back snickers of amusement. Not that he could blame them. If it were anyone but him, he'd be doing the same.

A frown quickly formed on Dante's face. Crossing her arms over her chest, her foot once again began to tap impatiently against the ground. If she continued to wait around for these lazy, dimwitted cadets to figure it out, they'd never complete their training. Turning away from the cadet, she moved away, taking position a handful of strides away before turning back to address him.

"If you don't figure it out," her voice called out, body slightly leaning forward toward the frazzled cadet. "I'm coming at you."

The look on Connie's face read that he was both confused and panicked. His brain seemed to be working on overdrive as Dante marched toward him. Her body increased momentum until she was practically sprinting toward him, seemingly ready to knock him down. She was closer still, closing the distance between them much faster than he could properly think.

Everything happened so quickly, but from Connie's point of view, time seemed to slow down. Dante was closer now, pivoting on her heel to ram the side of her body against his front. He's resigned himself to his fate and just braced himself for the coming moments.

"You use their weight against them!"

Dante stopped.

Connie's face contorted in surprise as he looked down at the female before him. Dante was slightly hunched over, elbow having stopped just before coming in contact with his midsection, so close that any moment later and he was sure he'd be doubled over in pain. He was so relieved to see the contact had been avoided that he fell back anyway, a loud, shaky sigh escaping him.

Dante straightened herself, head tilting to the side as her eyes scanned the faces of the cadets that still stood in line. Her eyes narrowed as they settled on the one who spoke.

"What?" Her voice was low as she turned to fully face the offender.

"That's how you beat someone… bigger than you…" Marco's voice seemed to quiver under her intense gaze. "You use their weight against them…"

Marco only spoke up to save his comrade from the impending beating, but he hadn't stopped to consider the consequences. He could feel the eyes of some of his fellow cadets lingering on him in question, but he found himself more concerned about the gaze of his instructor.

Dante's lips pressed into a tight line, her fists clenched and unclenched at her side, and her eyes seemed to narrow further as she looked at him. She had instructed him not to go blabbing to the other cadets about the answer to the lesson, yet here he was doing exactly what she instructed him not to do. Needless to say, she wasn't happy.

Slowly, she marched toward Marco, steps firm and unwavering. Some of the cadets near him seemed to inch away, but she paid them no mind. Marco knew she was upset; that much, she could tell.

"Since you seem to be the only cadet with the answer," her tone was low with warning. "You won't mind being a volunteer for a practical demonstration."

The two cadets that stood beside him clearly moved away, now. Marco was more than panicked. He had managed to save his fellow cadet from a beating, but now the attention was on him.

Dante reached out, hand grabbing hold of Marco's wrist. Jerking him forward, she turned her body, pushing her elbow and shoulder into his midsection. He was winded; he could feel Dante's limb pressing painfully against his ribcage. The world around him seemed to spin. His vision was hazed due to the air that was just knocked out of his lungs, but also because Dante's body pressed further against his. Tugging on his wrist, she yanked him closer using the momentum to flip him over. In reality, it all happened in an instant, but for Marco the moment seemed to drag on. Regardless, when he finally managed to catch his breath, he was on the ground, clenching painfully at his torso.

Looking down at the winded cadet, Dante softened. Naturally, she was irritated that he had blatantly ignored her instruction, but now that she had grounded him, so to speak, she instantly felt much more calm.

"Moving on!" She turned away without sparing a glance, allowing him to recover on his own. "Because we wasted so much time on this one lesson, I can't allow you to take a break. Therefore, we're immediately moving onto the next lesson!"

The cadets suppressed a groan of distaste, scowls settling onto their face instead. By now, Connie had risen himself from the ground, regaining his composure and quickly setting his stance into a salute.

Dante paid no mind. Instead, her mind was occupied with how she could go about beginning the following lesson. Gazing at the other cadets, an idea began to form. Eyes alight with realization, the answer seemed so obvious. Honestly, she wanted to kick herself for not thinking of it for the lesson previous. Deep, hazel orbs scanned the crowd, looking for a particular face. It took less than a second to locate him and with determined and firm steps, Dante marched toward the cadet.

"Braun!" She called, and his form went rigid. "Get over here!" A grin plastered itself onto the features of her face as she reached for the boy. Dante grabbed at his collar and hauled him to the front, similarly to how she'd dragged cadet Springer. However, Reiner didn't lose his footing and managed to form a near perfect salute without missing a beat.

Connie grumbled bitterly under his breath.

"Now, Springer," she started. "Braun is clearly bigger than you, and I'll bet money that, physically, he's stronger than you, too."

Connie's face slowly began to sour, a resentful look settling upon it. He was beginning to think Dante reserved this day especially to pick on him. Reiner, on the other hand, kept up his cool facade, a scowl ever present on the features of his face.

"Time for lesson two!" Dante crossed her arms against her chest, a satisfied smile settling onto the features of her face. "Practical combat training!"

* * *

A/N: This chapter kicked my ass ;( It's awkwardly slow in some parts, but rushed in others! I was having a hard time getting it to flow the way I wanted, so I ended up working on it in random sections.  
All in all, this chapter is a mess! xD Hopefully, next chapter will come together better. I think the next few chapters will probably go by pretty quickly (heads up!).

Please continue to read & review! I would love to know your thoughts on how the chapter is progressing so I can improve how I continue throughout the coming chapters! Thank you for taking the time to read my story!

Until next time!


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